


still alive, who you love

by writeyourheart



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, angsty kinda, bon iver title, i wrote this so quickly so it's not my best no prosecutions please, intentional lower case, mike tells el he loves her directly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 02:54:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20828216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeyourheart/pseuds/writeyourheart
Summary: remake of season 3, episode 6. in the heat of the moment, mike tells el he loves her directly.





	still alive, who you love

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this for the twitter mutuals :')

_she was in there for too long — _it was undeniable — he was sure of it — every atom in his body radiating with a concrete fear; the kind that would creep up in nightmares — in recollections of past moments like these — the kind he had grown familiar with. and he hated. he hated it because too long meant too much; too much exhaustion, and too much anxiety, and too many nosebleeds. too many reasons for him to feel like it was getting harder to breathe, and that the cabin felt like it was shrinking, and he felt like if he didn’t get to physically see her soon enough, that he was going to implode, or explode, or just _die_. pacing around the room wasn’t enough to ease his nerves — neither was eating any of lucas’ cereal, or chatting with will, and especially _not _sitting next to max — and so he had to say something — anything, before he lost his mind.

“it can’t be good for her to be in there for this long,” he declared shakily, running a hand through his hair in order to steady himself, pressing the pads of his fingers against his scalp.

“mike, you need to relax,” max stated smoothly. he hated how at ease she sounded — how at ease _they all_ sounded — it made him feel stupid, or insane. but he was sure that this wasn’t healthy — all of this searching in the void was harming el somehow, and the mere thought made him feel like he was going to be sick.

“what if she gets brain damage or something!”

“oh shit, is that like a real thing?” lucas asked suddenly, his eyes darting back and forth between max and mike, as if unsure who could supply him with the _real _answer. and of course, max spoke up before mike could utter another word.

“no, it’s not. he made it up,” max insisted — and behind the aggressive tone, her own voice was laced with hints of fear and doubt. her eyes found mike’s in a quick, lingering gaze — two blue, burning flames that made the anger within him grow like wildfire; an inferno within his soul. “mike doesn’t know what the _hell _he’s talking about.”

and that was it for him. the breaking point — the moment when everything steady within him shattered; every crevice of strength crumbling into anger, and fear, and anxiety. there was nothing that could hold him back from the flames within his chest. not even himself.

without a second thought, he whipped himself around and wrapped his palm against the door handle, twisting it as far as it could go and shoving the door open.

he could hear max and lucas begin to protest — their voices loud and startling; “mike, what are you —“

he didn’t get to hear the last few words over the sound of the door being slammed shut from behind him. he locked the door, his fingers glued against the metallic handle, his forehead pressed against the smooth wood.

his skin felt like it was on fire — every inch of him was set aflame; burning and boiling and made of embers that would not die out until all of this would be over. until he was safe. until _el _was safe.

“mike?”

though it was unexpected, and he couldn’t see her from his stance facing the door, the sound of her voice wasn’t startling. it wasn’t calming either. it was merely a reminder of where he was, and why he had to do this — why he had to lock himself up in el’s room in order to avoid the others — why he had to talk to her — _what_ he had to talk to her _about._

when he faced her, he did it with gentleness — his body slowly, delicately moving towards the source of her voice. she was getting up from where she had been sitting — shoving the blindfold down with both hands and wiping the blood that rested above her mouth against her forearm. she didn’t get it all; most of it smearing across her lip like a deep, etched cut. her hair was curly, and humid, and parts of it was stuck to her neck with sweat. her eyes were hollow, and tired, and her skin was nearly ghostly.

to anyone else, she’d seem weak in this moment; exhausted, and drained. she _was drained._ but this wasn’t weakness. this was strength. and mike knew it — he knew it better than anyone else in this cabin. on this earth. in this universe, and every other.

another flicker sparked throughout his veins, and the inferno within him did not cease.

“mike, i need to focus,” el said. she stood still, only a few feet away. if he took two, large steps, he could wrap his arms around her — grab onto her and never let go again. the thought was tempting, but it was one that he had to force aside. right now, she didn’t need his arms — she needed his words. _he _needed her to hear his words.

“i know,” mike quickly retorted. he was vibrating — his body shaking and trembling, and all he could do was dig his nails into the sides of his pants in order to ground himself somehow — before he really did explode. “_i know_. it’s just — you’ve been in there for _so_ long — _too_ long. i just don’t think that it’s healthy—”

“mike—“el sighed, trying to cut him off. her shoulders drooped, and her head tilted to the side with a hint of discouragement — as if she had expected this — as if he was being overly-dramatic and she was telling him to _relax — to calm down._

“you’ve never used your powers like this before, i just don’t think it’s smart for you to be doing this over and over again for so long. you don’t know what might happen, and i know that you think that you have to do this but _you don’t_ —“

“of course, i do!” el declared, her hands loudly smacking against her thighs in some kind of exasperated defeat. her eyes were beginning to grow wet, and he could see a redness form at the edges. suddenly, the urge to hold onto her was back, and he wasn’t sure how long he could resist it for this time. “i’m the only one who can!”

the fire within him flickered wildly — like christmas tree lights — a broken lamppost. he can see it; her internal obligation — the way she feels like she owes them this. he hates it — he hates how much it hurts el, and he hates how no one else can see it — not even her. and he knows that he’s going to combust; all of his words pouring out of him without any barriers. because if he doesn’t, then el will — and at this rate, she may not survive her own self-explosion.

“no! no, you’re not, okay — you’re not the only one — this isn’t only _your job!_” he boomed, both of his hands pressing against the back of his neck, borrowing into his skin, nails digging crescent-moons into his hairline. “and im so sick of _it._ im so sick of everyone treating you like you’re some kind of machine when you’re _not_ a machine! and i don’t want to you die looking for the flayed when they’ve obviously vanished off the face of the earth!”

without thought, he found himself stepping closer to her, every inch of him set ablaze — his heart pouring itself out of his chest in an outburst of passion he couldn’t seem to control.

“so, can we _please_ just think of some other plan — because _i love you_ and _i can’t lose you again!_”

her face froze up, mouth open wide— one single tear dropping against her cheek as her eyes widened wildly. every softened part of her tensed up — and mike was sure that he mirrored her.

his bones felt very heavy — like he couldn’t carry his own weight. and though the inferno of fear with him finally seemed to die out, another kind of anxiety crashed against him, burrowing within his veins and soaring to his heart. his heart was beating too quickly within his chest, and his cheeks were burning red, and suddenly he had forgotten how to breathe. and for a moment, he wasn’t sure he was going to ever breathe again.

but then el moved.

it was merely a flinch at first; her eyebrows twitching upwards. but then it was her shoulders that softened, and then her legs seemed to unsnap at the knees, and her fingers seemed loose and languid — and then, finally, her face was gentle, and all tension seemed to dissipate, and the world finally seemed to move again.

she walked towards him gently, one hand moving to cup his cheek as the other rested against his neck, fingertips slowly dancing across the crescent-moon dents his nails had left. he felt himself melt at her touch, and every inch of him seemed to mollify.

_he loves her_. he loves her so much — too much. too much for her to to kill herself at her own expense. the thought of losing her was colossal. it overwhelmed him — a thousand infernos — a thousand waves of shock. this was only a taste of it, and he could barely handle it.

_he loves her_. _he can’t lose her._

she pressed her forehead against his gently, and mike can finally allow himself to breathe. he doesn’t need her to say it back — not when she’s here’s with him, and her hands are on his face, and his arms are on her waist, and the world seems like theirs. only theirs.

he doesn’t need her to say it back — because this way, he can feel it. he _always _can, really.

“mike,” she whispered, and her breath was warm against his mouth — it sent a shiver throughout the entirety of his body — and every remaining tension withered into the air like it had never been there at all.

she’s going to say it back. she is. he can tell. she’s going to tell him that she loves him, and he’s going to explode for an entirely different reason this time, and —

the door swings open, and they’re forced apart. it’s nancy — urgency woven in her features.

“sorry,” she quickly mumbled at the sight of them. “i just wanted to make sure that everything is okay—”

he’s going to answer — to say _anything_ — but el is quick to reply instead.

“yes,” she says, but she’s not looking at nancy. she’s looking at _him._ softened gaze, and a half-smile — and even if its small, mike feels like the sun is radiating from her lips. “everything is okay. _everything is going to be okay_.”

**Author's Note:**

> u can find me on twitter @eIswheeIer! i's instead of l's <3 hope u enjoyed this quick mess i wrote instead of sleeping.


End file.
